


March 17th

by MCalhen



Category: Nabari no Ou
Genre: F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-25
Updated: 2014-09-25
Packaged: 2018-02-18 17:12:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2356169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MCalhen/pseuds/MCalhen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Every year, without fail, Hanabusa gave Tobari something green for his birthday.</p>
            </blockquote>





	March 17th

Every year, without fail, Hanabusa gave Tobari something green for his birthday.

It had started as a joke. Green for St. Patrick’s Day. But then it turned into a tradition, even if all she did was buy a plant to add to the garden in springtime. One of her gifts had been a pair of green slippers, another one embarrassing shamrock boxers that had made them both laugh and him blush until they were retired, never to be worn, to the closet.

Hana decorated his cake with fondant shamrocks. If Tobari drank, he would not have been surprised if she found a way to acquire green beer. Fortunately, aside from naturally green vegetables and the shamrocks, she had never dyed any of their food to match the holiday.

“Why do you do this to me every year?” he asked her fondly, slipping his arms around her waist from behind while she put the final touches on that year’s cake.

She giggled and licked frosting from her fingers. “Isn’t it funny, an Irishman being born on St. Patrick’s Day?”

“My grandfather used to say I was stubbornly patriotic from the day I was born.” Several arguments had occurred when his grandfather said they needed to travel to Japan. Tobari had wanted to stay in Ireland. As an adult, he understood the urgency and respected his grandfather more for the decision. But he loved Ireland—missed the days when he would join the choir and sing hymns beneath the stained glass windows as the colors danced across the boys’ faces and robes.

“Someday, if you can stand it, I want to go to Ireland with you,” said Hana. She turned in his arms to face him.

“I would love to,” said Tobari. But even though he had endured some rides on trains and buses, air travel terrified him most. The very thought of being in a plane made his heartbeat quicken.

“I won’t force you!” She gave him a kiss, and he could taste the butter cream frosting on her lips. 

“Someday, we’ll go,” he promised when they broke away. “If there’s anyone I want to go with, it’s you.”

Hana beamed, ran a finger through the bowl of homemade frosting, and held it up to him. He licked it off, savoring the taste. Her gimmicky cakes might have seemed ridiculous, but every year, they tasted delicious. And like her gifts, they were always presented to him with love.


End file.
